


Masks

by FhimeChan, Nalyra



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: ABO roleplay, Canon-Typical Violence, Conversations and manipulations, Embedded Images, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Hannibal can't shut up, M/M, Set in our universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2020-03-26 10:44:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19004167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FhimeChan/pseuds/FhimeChan, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nalyra/pseuds/Nalyra
Summary: Will and Hannibal pose as an alpha-omega couple for a case. Initially Will is angry, but his feelings change when Hannibal accepts to be his omega.How much of Will's alphan behaviour is an act?





	Masks

**Author's Note:**

> It was a honor to work with Allionne. Scroll down to find her beautiful artwork!!!!! 
> 
> Thank you Nikolina and Bones for your insights and suggestions. The remaining nonsense is mine!

Will paced Hannibal’s study, barely repressing the urge to storm out. Hannibal had not done anything yet, but Will knew that Hannibal knew, and that he would ask.

Anticipating Hannibal’s uncomfortable truths was excruciating.

“You seem upset.”  
There it was, the controlled tone which wormed its way into Will’s head. “And _you_ aren’t.”  
Hannibal leaned back and crossed his legs. “No. I’m not.”

Will wanted to yell, to snap back, to sulk. “You’ll be the _alpha_ .”  
“While I think Jack had that solution in mind, it does not have to be so.”  
Will’s eyes snapped to Hannibal. “What?”  
Hannibal raised from the chair, joining him in the middle of the study. He came at arm’s length. “I don’t see how our respective roles would be relevant to the investigation. As your friend, I’m concerned about your disproportionate reaction, but as your psychiatrist I’d rather discuss the reason behind it.”

Here it was. The request to open up, phrased as if Will’s compliance was a courtesy towards Hannibal.

Better to be done with it quickly. Will sighed and shoved his hands into his pockets. He twisted the fabric while he forced the words out. “Jack requested us to assume two roles, alpha and omega. The omega is empathetic, delicate, requires protection; the alpha is strong, assertive.” He snarled. “I can see why Jack assumed who’d take which role.”

“If this is your vision, I can understand why you feel insulted.”

Hannibal, as always, was looking closely at Will’s expressions. Will snapped. “Is there another vision?”

Hannibal nodded, not bothered by Will’s aggressive tone. “The omega is a nurturer. Empathetic, he meets people’s emotional needs and seeks harmony, even sacrificing his own well-being.”

Will crossed his arms. “We’re saying the same thing.”

“You see those as weaknesses, while I see them as qualities.” Hannibal paused, letting his words sink in. “In fact, my job itself requires me to provide emotional care.” Will blinked, trying to reconcile Hannibal with his idea of an omega. Hannibal was anything but confident. “Coincidently, those are the traits Jack is exploiting in you as a profiler.”

At that, Will resumed his pacing, distancing himself from Hannibal. “I… That sounded like an insult.”

“I assure you, it wasn't.” Hannibal stood still, an immovable point in the middle of the room. Calming. “As your therapist, I know that choosing how you want to see yourself is a pivotal part of your self-growth process. Tell me, Will.” Hannibal stepped forward, carrying his serenity as a shield. “Which role would you prefer to cast yourself into?”

Will swallowed. The answer was clear, but admitting his desires aloud was way too revealing.

Hannibal waited, almost unmoving. Indeed, providing Will with stability.

Will walked to the window, carefully avoiding Hannibal’s eyes. “The alpha.”

Hannibal nodded. “Then you shall be.”

* * *

Will stepped through the glass door of the omegaverse club holding his breath. He was met by suffused white lights, a faint floral perfume and a wooden counter behind which a woman in a elegant shirt was typing. A man read a newspaper in a corner. No chains, no weird decorations, just a number of small tables and comfy black sofas. All in all, the place looked  like a hotel reception.

Hannibal hovered on the door, just behind Will.

Right.

Will raised his chin and walked to the receptionist, feeling a light thrill in his stomach as Hannibal followed him.

* * *

 After Will gave their names, they were ushered through another door and into a larger room, furnished with more couches. A dozen people was chatting in couples or in small groups, or lounging by the bar. The only tangible indication of the nature of the club was a black collar on a woman's neck.

Will lead Hannibal to one of the more isolated couches, and ordered their drinks.

Even without markers, it was easy to distinguish the omegas. Keeping their eyes on the floor, standing one step behind their alphas, holding the drinks. It was more subtle than Will expected.

Hannibal leaned down on the sofa, breaking his usually impeccable posture. Will realized that with his hair unstyled and without his waistcoat, Hannibal wasn't radiating his usual assurance. Will studied his faint smile, wondering how much of his ease was an act.

When Hannibal turned to look at him, Will straightened his spine.

They stood side by side in silence, studying the people in the room. Some of them were moving from table to table, exchanging few words. After Will and Hannibal’s exotic teas arrived, one of the alphas approached them. She was a woman dressed in a stunning green dress, followed by a rather less noticeable man in a grey suit. Her high heels made no sounds on the moquette as she stopped in front of Will, offering her manicured hand to shake. Will raised to his full height to match her. 

She nodded at Hannibal, then her gaze returned to Will. “I have never seen you here. What do you think of the place?“

Her hand clutched the man's neck and remained there as Will gave her their rehearsed answers. Hannibal joined the conversation with a compliment, and she glanced at Will for permission before answering him.

Will could not stop staring at the man, soft and happy at her side, not required to talk.

He wondered if Hannibal would let him do that.

* * *

Hannibal’s waistcoat was back in place during their next therapy session. “How was your evening?”  
Will raised an eyebrow, dumping his bag on Hannibal’s desk. “You were there.”

A smile softened Hannibal's eyes for a moment. “As your friend. I'm asking as your therapist.”

Will stepped around the desk, coming to stand beside Hannibal. “More normal than I would have expected. No killer yesterday, which means we’ll have to go back. New.” He looked at the windows, seeing black sofas and creamy furniture instead of the red and grey curtains. “Pleasant.”

“An external acknowledgement of what you consider your qualities can be powerful.”

Will frowned, turning back to Hannibal. “What do you mean?”

“Last time, we discussed the role of an omega.” Hannibal reclined on the chair, raising his chin to look up at Will. “How would you define an alpha?”

The posture reminded Will of the previous evening, and he wondered if Hannibal was doing that on purpose. “Told you. Strong, self-sufficient, reliable, protective.”

Hannibal adjusted the pencils, realigning them beside his register. “And why do you think you don’t meet the requirements?”

“I…” Will laughed without humor, staring at his shoes. There was still a patch of mud from when he had taken his dogs to the stream that morning. “I need therapy to cope with my mind, don’t I?”

“Will.” Hannibal waited until Will looked at him again. “Not at all. You’re here on Jack’s request, and only because your job is currently highly stressing. You managed very well on your own, even though you always chose jobs which cast you as a protector.”

It was difficult not to believe Hannibal. Will gestured at him with his arm. “Jack respects your opinions.”

“Yes. But I’m an external consultant, while Jack is your direct superior.”

Will snorted. “I bet if you were in my place you’d manage him.”  
Hannibal’s lips curled up. “I’m flattered.”

* * *

Their next evening at the club was scheduled for a Saturday evening, and the place was crowded. Will and Hannibal sat at the bar, few seats away from a man who was reading aloud from a tablet, making rude comments and gathering a crowd. Will recognized the latest TattleCrime article.

He ignored the man, scanning the people there instead. But his eyes kept straying to Hannibal, who had decided to forgo a tie and to undo the top buttons of his shirt. He looked soft. He looked approachable. Will, in his black suit, felt completely in control.

Someone said, “I don't understand why they don't just cage all those crazy people at birth. Saving trouble.”

Will did not think before replying, “Maybe they should do an IQ test instead. In that case, I wouldn't have to lose time listening to you.”

He had been loud and way too rude. He expected some reproachful glares, but he received only polite nods from the omegas and the other alphas’ silent approval. The man who had spoken left.

Suddenly, Hannibal was plastered along Will’s side, melting into a half embrace. So close, Hannibal’s smell surrounded him. Hannibal was not wearing any cologne, and Will took a deeper breath before realizing that he liked it. Will’s hand found the small of Hannibal’s back and brought him closer, until Hannibal’s shoulder was pressed against Will’s side. It was comfortable.

It was only at home that Will realized that he had forgotten to monitor the crowd after that. They would have to come back.  

* * *

When Hannibal opened the door of his study for Will’s appointment, Will automatically escorted him to his armchair with a hand on his back.

Will realized it only after he sat down, and blushed, scolding himself. What had come into his mind? They were not at the club. He scratched his cheek, hiding behind his hands.

But, but. Hannibal was wearing the same shirt he had worn during their evening, even if with a tie. Will glanced at Hannibal. Relaxed, reclined on the armchair. On purpose.

Will spread his hands over his knees, finally meeting Hannibal’s eyes.  

Not offended, but Hannibal never was. Not, and that _was_ surprising, ready to pry open the crack in Will’s behaviour to get into his mind. Hannibal was just smiling, pleased.

Will realized he was looking forward to their next evening at the club, and so was Hannibal.

* * *

Another night, another crowd. As soon as they passed the door, Hannibal stepped closer to Will, relaxing when Will touched his back.

It was surprisingly easy to empathise with people when so tethered, and Will could see clearly that their killer was not there. He did not tell Hannibal, and approached the bar.

Someone tried to put a hand around Hannibal's waist. Will snarled and basked in the rush of power he felt as the other alpha backed away.

Hannibal shivered under his hand.

* * *

"I enjoy the freedom this place gives me." A hard won admission, at any another time. Surprisingly easy in the shadows of the night street.

Hannibal was flushed from the club’s heat, his skin glistened under the yellow streetlights. "Social barriers are useless in your eyes, yet your mirror neurons push you towards conformism; any small rudeness of your own is a well earned copying mechanism to declare your independence. Although, it does not apply to our situation."

Will put a hand on the back of Hannibal’s neck and pressed. "Our situation is that I'll destroy anyone who lays a hand on you."

"With the community's approval."

"Yes."

* * *

"I'm sorry. Last night behaviour was inappropriate." Said all in one breath. Coming out self assured because of the many trials in front of the mirror.

Hannibal glanced up from his drawing, composed, unfazed. "A perfect natural reaction to a stressing situation."

Something was absent in Hannibal, something that had been there the previous night, but that Will could not identify. He only felt a vague sense of loss. "As my psychiatrist, I suspect you should advocate for self restraint."

Hannibal added a few lines, then looked at Will. "I may, in some situations. But my professional opinion in this circumstance is that getting in touch with your emotions may be beneficial."

Will crossed his arms. "I know my emotions."

Hannibal inclined his head, putting down the pencil. "Do you?"

* * *

Adoration. That was what had been missing, and now it was back. It was in Hannibal’s upturned lips as Will steered him towards the entrance; it was in the way he pressed, just slightly, his elbow against Will’s side; it was in the soft set of his eyes. Will basked in that feeling, anticipating their evening.

Yet, as soon as they passed the threshold, all that Will wanted was to curl around his omega and to drive them both back to Wolf Trap, where they would be safe.

Rationally, he knew that his desire was ridiculous and that Hannibal was perfectly capable of taking care of himself, but Will could not stop shaking.

When a man turned to look at them, Will understood. The other alphas were self assured, sometimes posturing, sometimes angry.

This one wanted to destroy anything and anyone. He was their killer.

The alpha smiled at them, Will snarled. He wanted to annihilate him before he could touch Hannibal. He needed to protect his omega and to keep him sheltered from every danger.

As the man walked towards them, Will grabbed Hannibal’s shoulder and pushed him towards the exit.

Hannibal let Will manhandle him out of the room and towards their car, stumbling when Will cut off the contact.

Will texted Jack. 'He's here.'

Then sped out of the park lot.

* * *

Jack texted Will later, saying they had lost the man.

Will stared at the shape of the letters. They had been safe in the crowd, which was the reason why Jack had asked them to join the club. They could have easily caught the killer.

Will had failed. Irrationally.

* * *

Will avoided his next appointment with Hannibal. He did not want to answer Hannibal's inevitable questions about his motives, nor think about them.

* * *

Will sat still in front of the fireplace with the lights switched off. Numbing his thoughts with whiskey before a night of nightmares. Or maybe numbing his morals enough to morph them into something dark and beautiful.

There was a knock on the door.

Will stood, knowing who was outside. Hannibal's appearance tasted like an inevitabile dream.

Will let the details wash over him. He was not surprised by the unstyled hair, or the open collar he could just see under Hannibal’s coat, or the absence of any greetings. Hannibal, of course, was inscrutable, perfectly composed. He was also at Will's doorstep in the middle of the night.

Following what felt like a rehearsed script, Will took Hannibal’s coat and guided him inside with a hand on the small of his back. He led him to an armchair and stood straight in front of him, hovering in Hannibal’s personal space. Hannibal leaned back, looking up at Will. The light of the fire softened his eyes.

In daylight, in Hannibal’s office, Will would have dreaded this moment. In his own house, protected by the shadows drawn by the fire, Will was surprised to find he was not nervous.

He broke the silence first. "I let my role as an alpha wipe my mind blank." Just a touch of self deprecation. "Because of me, Jack’s nightmare did not end yesterday."

A log creaked. It was impossible to understand if Hannibal’s mouth had twitched, or if it had been a flicker of the fire. "One of your forts crumbled to pieces."

"Only one?" Will's mind was a cluster of shattered ruins; Hannibal’s presence revealed the extent of the damage and at the same time soothed it.

Hannibal paused. There was a genuine note of hopefulness in his tone when he said, "Tell me, what do you see beyond them?"

' _I see myself tearing the killer's throat apart with my bare teeth and claiming you as my prize.'_ Could Will say that aloud? Maybe yes, in a dream.

A light flashed outside.

It lit up Hannibal’s face, and Will _saw_ it. The reason Hannibal was there.

"What walls have you demolished in your desire to know me, Hannibal?"

Almost a rhetorical question.The pieces that Will had been too self absorbed to analyze, the places where Hannibal had crossed the lines. Because wasn’t it what Hannibal always did, crossing lines? But this time it had been different. Letting himself be led, spoken for. Shivering at a touch, stumbling at the absence of it. Hannibal had let Will carve a door that could not be locked into the marble of his mind palace.

Hannibal’s feigned hesitation had turned true, his need had been unchained, until Hannibal could not help but come at Will's door. Will wondered if Hannibal knew how irrationally he was acting, or if he had told himself that he was there to poke at Will.

The door creaked open, and their prey dared to come inside.

Will turned, teeth uncovered in a snarl as he stepped between Hannibal and the intruder. With the corner of his eyes he saw Hannibal rising, a black silhouette in front of the fireplace.

Will did not think as he lunged; he did not need to. The killer had broken into his safe harbor and was threatening his omega. His fist connected with a satisfying crunch. Will was probably supposed to feel pain when the killer returned a weak kick and a punch, but Hannibal was still in the alpha’s range and that was the only thing in Will’s mind. He twisted, pulling the killer down and slamming his head against the floor. Blood came out of his nose as Will’s nails reared the skin. Nobody could take what was his, nobody could stop him. Will was free, savage, powerful.

Hannibal.

He was full of pride, standing just out of reach. His expression was now revealed by the direct firelight.

Will stopped.

"This isn't me."

Hannibal swallowed, uncharacteristically hesitant. His voice was barely more than a whisper. "It may be."

The blood was smearing Will’s hands, still clutched around the killer's neck. It looked good. It felt good.

It would pass as self defence.

Will's mind jumped, and he was not the powerful alpha anymore, he was Will, who struggled to socialize, in the same room with his only friend. Who would cover for him. Who, if the longing in his eyes was true, wanted to see him kill. Who was remarkably calm.

Too calm.

Hannibal was intelligent, had a medical background, was meticulous to the point of excess. He could fight off another killer with few scratches and had a remarkable classical knowledge.

Hannibal was calm because he had already killed, and Will knew exactly who he was.

Will jumped on his feet, breathing heavily. As surety flew away from Will, Hannibal regained his mask. Except that Will could see all the cracks, even without looking. They were identical to his own.

“What do you want?”

Hannibal swallowed and did not answer.

Will took a step forward, light on his feet. Still on the edge, ready to attack Hannibal. A drop of blood fell from his hand and on the floor. “Answer me.”

Hannibal did not cover, but looked away, like he always did during their evenings. Only, this time, it was for real. “I… don’t know.”

The tone of voice had nothing of Hannibal’s usual surety, and that drove the point home. Hannibal had no idea what to do. There were no plans except for the ones they would make right now.

Will slowly lowered his shoulders. He needed to be lucid, or at least, as lucid as he could. “Neither I do.” The killer was still on the floor, knocked out, another problem to solve. “I…” He laughed, ugly. “I could easily kill him. And then I would bite you until you screamed my name.” He could not help but hiss the last words.

Hannibal shivered, still avoiding eye contact. His voice was hoarse. “You could.”

Will wanted to do just so. He tore at his hair, letting the pain center him. “No, I can’t. But.” He realized what would be the alternative. “But. If I don’t, I’d have to admit what you are.”

Finally, Hannibal looked him in the eyes, uncertain, but still the one person to know Will better than himself. Hannibal studied him and said, plainly. “You can’t.”

Will's voice broke as he whispered. “I can’t.” It would mean to lose everything.

Tentatively, Hannibal stepped forward. He took Will’s hand and let it fall around his neck. He nuzzled at Will’s cheek.

Will closed his eyes. They had not done that at the club. He had not known how Hannibal’s hair would feel soft, or how his stubble would scratch his jugular. It was startling in its intensity.

Hannibal said, low. “We can leave tonight. Start anew. Be whatever we want to be.”

Will blinked. At what price? “What will you be, then?”

Hannibal pressed closer. “Your omega.”

Will carded his hand through Hannibal’s hair. It shone like copper in the reflected light of the flames. “A nurturer. What do you want to nurture?”

Hannibal stilled, just a momentary hesitation before he answered.“Whatever you decide.”

Will hummed and kept petting Hannibal. That would never happen, but. That sentence did not sound like Hannibal at all. There was just a tiny chance it may work.  

Will let himself be greedy.

“And I’ll be your alpha.”

They turned away from the injured man on the floor and left into the night.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading :D  
> Don't forget to let Allionne know what you think of her gorgeous art! You can find her posts on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/allionne/status/1135622180534870016) and on [Tumblr](https://allionne.tumblr.com/post/185344204465/presenting-the-art-for-masks) :D


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